


Imperial Forces

by Kitanni



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-19 17:22:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11902524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitanni/pseuds/Kitanni
Summary: "To defeat an enemy, you must know them. Not simply their battle tactics, but their history, philosophy, art."For all his experience, Thrawn knows little of the Force.  After meeting the Bendu on Atalon, and hearing his warning, Thrawn seeks to remedy the hole in his knowledge.  There are few known force users in the galaxy, and less still those whom he could study.  Perhaps one of the Empire's prisons could hold the answers he seeks?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s the very first part of my Thrawn x Reader fic! Starts at the end of Rebels Season 3.
> 
> I haven’t written in a very long time (and this is my first time writing seriously in first person), so any feedback would be much appreciated! The following chapters will be longer, and have much more Thrawn ;) The first few chapters will be SFW - the ones after that - no promises!

You drape your arm over your eyes as consciousness creeps back, shielding them against the artificial glare of your cells lights. The movement uncomfortably stretches your aching shoulder muscles, but it’s become a familiar pain, so you pay it no mind.

 _How long have I been here now?_  you muse.  _Weeks? Months?_  Letting a soft sigh escape through your dry, cracked lips, you realise, for the umpteenth time, that it hardly matters. You couldn’t return to Solay now even if you wanted to. Not for the first time, your thoughts wonder back to before you were captured. How had ratted you out? And why? You’d made a point not to get too involved with anyone since the debacle on Thesme, preferring to keep a wary, but polite, distance from the locals. That should have been a safer bet. 

Pushing your thoughts to the back of your mind with another sigh, you drag yourself into a somewhat-sitting position in the middle of the metal box that passed for your bunk. Twinges of pain shoot through your body as you do – protesting every movement. You ignore them all as you take a deep breath and pull your focus inwards, slipping easily into a well-practiced healing trance.

The damage isn’t as bad as usual, making you wonder if even the ISB is getting bored with your “interrogation”. Ironically, the training that helps you withstand the questioning is exactly what they want you to confess to having. If they had any proof, however tenuous, you’d have been executed long before now. No, you’d realised not long into your captivity that someone had likely bribed the imperials to take you under the guise of being a suspected jedi and just make your life hell. And if they could extract a confession, genuine or not, all the better. 

You set about guiding the force to heal your internal injuries, mostly muscle strains and clearing the various residual chemicals you’d been injected with, leaving the various cuts and bruises alone to ward off suspicions. Then, through your meditation, you sense a sudden change in the atmosphere. Your captors are on edge. Anxious. You abandon your healing and concentrate on what is happening in the compound.

At first, all you can sense is shock. Nervousness. Fear. As you continue to focus, you gain a little clarity. There’s an unexpected visitor to the garrison. 

 _That can’t be good news_ , you think to yourself, emerging from your trace. The only explanation you can think of to account for this level of upheaval is a high ranking official. Very high ranking. 

You suppress a shudder as the image of a helmeted figure in black flashes in your mind.  _Don’t be stupid_ , you berate yourself.  _If it were him, you surely would have sensed his presence. Right? Besides, there are plenty more prisoners here – this probably has nothing to do with me…_  Still, a nagging feeling suggests exactly the opposite.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s a few hours later when your cell door opens with a sharp hiss.  Sitting cross-legged on your bunk (having passed the time with meditations) you slowly open your eyes, determined to remain at least outwardly calm whatever the Empire throws at you.  Your resolve is immediately put to the test by the scene in front of you and you can’t help but raise your eyebrows slightly in surprise as you take in the figure in the doorway.

Flanked by a half dozen Stormtroopers standing at attention, and followed by a very nervous-looking ISB agent, stands a blue-skinned man in a pristine white uniform.  The uniform of a Grand Admiral.  A fleeting thought of rescue crosses your mind but you dismiss it out of hand as ridiculous.  As strange as a high-ranking non-human in the Empire would be, there could be no mistaking his confidence (and the reaction of the garrison to his arrival) for anything other than what he appeared to be.

As the initial shock wears off, you regain your composure and study the Grand Admiral carefully, waiting for him to make the first move.

With the force, you feel the tension and nervousness of the Admiral's companions, but he himself feels... calm.  Determined.  Curious, even.  Yet despite his obvious deep ties to the Empire, you sense no evil or cruelty.  No anger or animosity at all, even though he is surrounded by enemies of the Empire (albeit imprisoned enemies).

And with your eyes, you see that the Grand Admiral stands tall, his back straight without being rigid, his broad shoulders squared and back in perfect military posture – except instead of projecting arrogance (like most Imperial officers), he projects… readiness.  And (confidence).   _Not dissimilar to a nexu_ _,_ you muse, _graceful yet deadly, ready to attack at a moments notice_.  His skin is a pale blue that reminds you of the sky in the hour before dawn, and it contrasts dramatically with the stark white of the uniform’s fabric.  The Admiral’s face is angular, but not harsh, simultaneously very human and decidedly alien.  It’s an odd mix that you don’t find entirely displeasing.  It's framed by neatly combed-back blue-black hair that shines slightly in the harsh daylight. The most striking feature of the visitor, however, is his glowing red eyes.  You suppose many might find them intimidating, but you?  You are drawn to them, almost like a moth to a flame.  You find yourself wondering what those eyes have seen already and what secrets lie behind them.

You feel those eyes studying you in turn and feel your cheeks warm slightly in self-consciousness.  It does not take long for him to speak, though it almost feels like an eternity.  His voice is modulated, with an almost smoky tone, as he recites your details as though from a data pad - the standard name, age, and species that you would find on any Imperial dossier, and a list of the last three planets you'd lived on along with every job you'd taken on those planets!  He's clearly done his research - but why?

"You were arrested on Solay," he continued, "on suspicion of being a fugitive Jedi."  He holds up a hand as you open your mouth to deny the charges.  "Do not bother to deny it.  I have studied your recent movements and actions, and I am certain that the allegations are true.  Though I do not believe either your accuser or captors are of the same mind."

"Who are you?" you ask in the following silence, narrowing your eyes and cocking your head slightly to the right.

"I am Grand Admiral Thrawn," he answers, "and I am here to offer you a deal.  I require information.  Information that only a Jedi can give.  You will accompany me to my ship and share this information, or you will remain here and be executed as a Jedi as the law dictates."

You can't help but let out a quiet snort of derision.  Smirking, you shake your head a fraction.  "What, and be killed once you're done with me?  I don't much see the point," you scoff.

"Were you to accept my offer, and prove yourself useful, it may be possible for you to serve the Empire with the Emperor's blessing for the remainder of your days.  Refuse, and your fate is sealed."

Thinking quickly, you consider your options.  The Emperor and his Empire is what ultimately landed you in this cell, having all but outlawed Jedi.  But being executed on this dustbowl of a planet doesn't seem like a particularly good idea either...   _Maybe,_ you think, an idea starting to form in your mind,  _I can find my way *off* the ship and planet-side a lot easier than I could by staying here..._

You sigh softly and shrug your shoulders.  "Well, it's not like I had anything better to do today.  Do I at least get a shower, and regular meals?"

The corners of Thrawn's lips twitch as though he were about to smile.  "Of course," he says instead.  He steps to one side, bowing slightly and gesturing for you to leave your cell.

As you step forward into the light, you feel your heart rate increasing slightly.  Working for the Empire?  What are you thinking?  Shoving the thoughts aside, you take a deep breath and continue on, following the Stormtroopers and Grand Admiral through the garrison to where a shuttle awaits your group.  Your booted footsteps echo loudly in the all but empty hangar, the sounds bouncing off the durasteel walls, almost giving the impression that you were guarded by an entire battalion, rather than the handful who were actually there.  In the middle of the emptiness sits a lone Lambda-class shuttle, two more Stormtroopers stationed at either side of the boarding ramp.

When you near the shuttle, Grand Admiral Thrawn stops and turns to the ISB agent that had been following, while you are led up the ramp.  "Thank you, Agent Jenkins," he says, not a trace of sarcasm in his voice.  "You have been most helpful."  He turns and boards the shuttle with the rest of you as Jenkins stammers out a reply - possibly still wondering what had just happened.  He is not alone in his assessment of the situation.  You're jostled slightly at the sudden change of direction when the shuttle takes off and you can't help but wonder if you'd made the right choice....


End file.
